Chapter III
For several days after, Louisa watched and waited.
During her exchange with Elizabeth, she’d sensed her support for Mr. Wickham, but though Louisa never saw them in company—she saw Mr. Wickham only once and did not speak to him—she detected a hint of caution in her manner.
If what Louisa knew of Mr. Wickham was the truth, that was for the best. The man had, by all accounts in the community, been plying Miss King with his attentions, but that did not mean he would not turn to another if he thought he had an opportunity.
Yet that was a secondary consideration. As she was in company with the Bennets often, she had many occasions to observe Jane, and what she saw did not displease her. Though many would scoff at the notion, it was something Gerald said that opened her eyes to the truth.
“Miss Bennet has never been indifferent to your brother, Louisa,” said he, his usual bluntness cutting through any nonsense. “She is far too artless to feign interest when she feels none, her mother notwithstanding.”
Louisa regarded her husband. “You suppose her to be attached to Charles?”
“What do you think?”
After considering this for several moments, Louisa ventured: “Before we returned to Hertfordshire, I was uncertain. Now, however, it is as clear as day.”
“Then you see what I do,” replied Gerald. “Darcy is observant, Louisa, but I think his judgment is compromised in this instance.”
Louisa considered this. “You refer to Miss Elizabeth. As I recall, Caroline had some choice words to say about her, comments she never makes unless she feels threatened.”
“Then you have your answer.”
“You have never said anything before.”
“Caroline has a piercing voice, and she uses it whenever anyone disagrees with her.”
That was, Louisa had to confess, nothing less than the truth. Gerald and Caroline were not at odds with each other, but he had a low tolerance for her ways and often absented himself or kept his silence when he knew that speaking would provoke her.
“Though Caroline argued that Miss Bennet was indifferent,” said Gerald, “I saw nothing of it. She is reticent to be certain, but she does not have the temperament for deception.”
“It was not Caroline who pushed Jane’s indifference,” said Louisa absently as she considered what her husband had said. “That was Mr. Darcy. Caroline argued Jane was unsuitable, though she latched onto Mr. Darcy’s assertion readily enough when he made it.”
“Yes, I remember. Your sister wants to tie him to a woman of her choosing—if she’d shown even a hint of interest, Caroline would have pushed your brother toward Lady Diane Montrose.”
It was the truth—Louisa did not hesitate to acknowledge her husband had the right of it. “She might have pushed, but I doubt Charles would have yielded.”
“No, he would not. Bingley can be stubborn when he wishes it.”
“Then your assertions about Miss Bennet . . .”
“Louisa,” said Gerald, his tone gentler than was his wont, “I know you and your sister want your brother to make a stupendous match, but have you considered his wishes and happiness?”
“If I did not, we would not be here,” said Louisa, knowing he already understood.
“Then let him make his choice free of interference. Miss Bennet is not indifferent to him, and his infatuation has lasted longer than any other woman he has fixated upon. Miss Bennet may even be the making of him.”
“And Caroline? Did you not warn me of the potential consequences of my actions?”
Gerald shrugged as if it did not signify. “Caroline almost always has a bee in her bonnet. I do not suggest you push Bingley at Miss Bennet to spite her—just step back and allow him to make his own decision.”
It was, she considered thereafter, excellent advice.
Caroline did not object to Miss Bennet for herself, or even for Mr. Darcy’s assertions of her indifference.
For Caroline, it all came back to her lust for advancement in society, her eagerness to leave their common origins behind them.
A brief conversation after they had persuaded Charles not to return made that point clear as day.
“Caroline,” Louisa said the evening after Mr. Darcy had left Charles brooding in his study, “do you believe Mr. Darcy’s suggestion of Miss Bennet’s indifference?”
Caroline’s lip curled into a sneer, telling Louisa everything she needed to know.
“Her indifference or interest is not the issue.
The issue is her complete unsuitability.
If we are to gain acceptance, Charles cannot marry a woman with nothing to help our standing.
Better that he separate from her now than wait until his affections are engaged.
To Louisa, his affections were already engaged, but she decided against saying that. “What of his wishes?”
“If I trusted our brother to know his own mind, I might concern myself. We acted in the service of keeping him from making a mistake, Louisa. When he understands that, he will show us the proper gratitude.”
The conversation stuck with Louisa, for she knew Caroline cared less for Charles than for what a good marriage in society could do for them.
It also showed an underlying contempt for their brother that Caroline did not display openly.
Caroline was fond of Charles, but she had always deplored his calm temperament and took shameless advantage of it; his lack of ambition for society’s adulation that ruled her had always been a source of frustration.
The question was not whether Louisa and Caroline approved, whether Charles and Miss Bennet suited, or even whether Miss Bennet was as welcoming to Charles as Gerald suggested.
No, it was whether Charles possessed the freedom to make his own choices without interference from well-meaning relations with their own agendas.
When she thought of it that way, everything became easy.
RARE WAS THE OCCASION when Elizabeth found it necessary to reevaluate her opinion of anything.
Knowing how that would sound if she said it aloud, she kept the thought to herself, but that did not make it any less true.
Whether it was from an unconscious ability to see things as they were or an unwillingness to confess when she erred, Elizabeth could not say, but she could not think of many times when she had reconsidered a previous position.
The current source of her contemplation was not Mr. Darcy, though Elizabeth was aware there might come a day when she must reconsider him too. Mrs. Hurst was the subject of Elizabeth’s unwilling ruminations, and what she saw did not support her initial opinion.
“Good evening, Miss Elizabeth,” said the woman at a gathering a few days after the Netherfield visit.
“Mrs. Hurst,” replied Elizabeth.
They engaged in a few moments of desultory conversation, after which Mrs. Hurst stood by Jane for a time, their discussion more animated.
A few moments later, Mrs. Bennet, who was seated with several other matrons, said something loud as was her wont, which drew a glance from Mrs. Hurst, but not one steeped in judgment like Elizabeth would have expected from the woman’s sister.
It was often thus. Mrs. Hurst was not a warm woman, though she was composed and even friendly. She met them all with composure, speaking with perfect civility, even those Elizabeth knew she did not appreciate in a general sense. Mrs. Bennet was among those.
Mrs. Hurst tolerated Mrs. Bennet’s ways, including her comments about Mr. Bingley, her effusions, and her general inability to behave like a gentlewoman.
But Elizabeth could see how she avoided Mrs. Bennet whenever she could.
Mrs. Hurst was the same way with Kitty and Lydia, for she saw more than a few grimaces when confronted with the girls’ excesses.
It was a sentiment that Elizabeth could understand; her exasperation with certain elements of her family was akin to an old friend.
That Mrs. Hurst said nothing and chose avoidance instead of open disdain was a point in her favor.
Elizabeth would never have expected it when first making her acquaintance.
By contrast, Elizabeth was certain there was no need to alter her opinion of the woman’s sister.
Though Mrs. Hurst had commented but little about Miss Bingley, her absence from Hertfordshire spoke volumes, even if Mr. Bingley was also still absent.
Miss Bingley, Elizabeth knew, was shrewish, proud, haughty, and thought entirely too well of herself.
Elizabeth did not know by what means Mrs. Hurst kept her sister away, but she did not suppose Miss Bingley would behave any better than she did last autumn, should she come to Hertfordshire.
What to make of it all, Elizabeth was not certain she knew.
Other than the cryptic comment about her brother’s potential return, Elizabeth had no notion of Mrs. Hurst’s true feelings about Jane and her interest in Mr. Bingley.
Mrs. Hurst’s presence at Netherfield suggested she would not oppose a match between them should Mr. Bingley return.
Then it all changed. As Kitty and Lydia were above stairs that morning, Mary was at the pianoforte, and Jane and Elizabeth were attending their mother, there was no one to go to the window to espy visitors to the estate.
Thus, when Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy entered the room, in the company of the Hursts, the room fell silent with shock.
JANE BENNET WAS NO less surprised when Mr. Bingley entered the room with his sister, but her thoughts traveled a different path from anyone else in the room.
“Mr. Bingley!”
The exclamation from her mother was nearly a squeal of delight, but the man in question did not seem to notice it. On his face was his ever-present grin. What was absent was any regret for the last month of his absence.
“Mrs. Bennet,” said Mr. Bingley, stepping forward while his friend held back. “How excellent it is to see you again.”